Robert Moscaliuc's Reviews > Fives and Twenty-Fives

"The characters in this story are fictional, but their battles are real."

Military jargon is like abstract art. It says a lot, but on a first encounter it smells like paint. And in war fiction there are usually two ways to deal with it. You either use it sparingly so that it gets lost and your reader gets a little electric shock every time it comes up, or you aim for dramatic effect by overusing it (as Phil Klay does in OIF, a short story included in Redeployment) and by pointing out its dryness and absurdity. In Fives and Twenty-Fives Michael Pitre, on the other hand, does something very interesting with both of these approaches.
First, he breaks the story into separate points of view, and each breaking point is signaled by a short note, a letter, an official report, and the occasional comments Dodge/Kateb makes for his thesis on Huck Finn. Most of these separate narratives move back (to the war in Iraq) and forth (to the Marines trying to rebuild their lives after the end of their service), and abound in flashbacks usually triggered by something happening in the present (to the point where some of them become predictable): Doc Lester Pleasant thinks of "the machine-gun range" when he hears the fireworks on New Year's Eve; Donovan thinks of a difficult mission involving dangerous chemical substances while working on his "solid reports" for his job; the grass smell in Lizzy's room reminds Lester of the "grass down at Nasr Wal Salam...Thickest damn grass I ever saw." And some of these flashbacks seem so absurd and ironic that they do not seem credible. Some of them are very funny, such as the episode when Dodge/Kateb first meets Lieutenant Pederson in All Smiles, All Friendship and the lieutenant's translator takes his job a little too seriously. "This guy? Pederson?", the interpreter says in Arabic during their encounter, "he is going to fuck your whole world. Fuck you hard up the ass. Tell him where you have the weapons hidden. He's Fifty Cent's cousin. I'm not lying." Pederson, of course, said nothing of the sort. There was no mention of Fifty Cent. This is also the episode in which Dodge starts to win the Americans' trust when he reveals himself to be a fluent speaker of English and unmasks the interpreter's jocular translations.
Most of these stories appear to be extended comments on the notes that precede them as if to offer a background and as such facilitate understanding. And some of those notes are written in dry military jargon. Consider for instance the frequent reports and the "findings of fact" that are mere inventories of facts. The stories that follow suit go well beyond those inventories and show the emotions in between, the decisions taken on those emotions. The most illustrative example in this sense is the chapter titled The Brass Buttons. Though preceded by a "respectfully submitted" "memorandum for the record" the chapter is a fierce display of emotion that makes it, in my opinion, one of the most memorable chapters in the novel. It is memorable because of Dodge's comments on the mission and because of how the unfolding of the mission is described by Donovan. When asked about the purpose of the mission Dodge replies in his typical ironic fashion:

"We are going to some place in the desert where I will speak in Arabic to some Iraqi dudes. You gentlemen will move barrels full of bad shit while sweating and cursing. Everybody will be pissed off, all day."

"He had the mission about right", Donovan replies mentally. The mission ends in complete failure for lack of preparation and equipment and the lieutenant has to humiliate himself and apologize to his chain of command. But the way the mission is described is even more memorable. The desert was not actually barren as all deserts are but complete with a suburb "like something out of the American Southwest".

"The gate opened to a stone walkway running alongside the American-style house, spurring the sensation that Zahn and I were the first to arrive at a birthday pool party. Again, I tried to shake off the feeling of familiarity and remind myself that I was in a war." (281)

The surreal apparition continues and the sense of uncanny familiarity doesn't wane:

"Through my clouded vision, I could see the Marines on security standing against a backdrop of houses not dissimilar from the ones in which they might have grown up, and they appeared to me as the children they had been just a few years earlier. I pictured them passing footballs in the street. Walking up to front doors wearing tuxedos, carrying flowers for their homecoming dates. I even let myself picture the impossibility of Gomez coming to the door in a dress, accepting her corsage." (282-3)

There's such tenderness in that passage and I feel like it's so revealing of the characters' personality and of the relationship between the Marines. There's such a paternal feeling to the scene. And Donovan, in the end, does what a father would do: abandon the mission to keep his Marines safe.
But that is not the only time in which Pitre is so good at showing emotion. Though rare, such moments strike a chord. Consider this one for instance, in Dodge's words:

"It is still New Year's Eve in America, and Lester needs to be out kissing girls, I should think. I might not hear from him for some time. Here in Tunisia, there have been girls to kiss but neither celebrations nor music. Only serious kisses that carry our fears." (300)

Or the moment when sergeant Gomez finally shows some emotion and, by extension, her love for Zahn:

"She kept her palm against my chest and increased the pressure until I took a full step back. I stole a glance at her face and took note of the tears welling in her eyes." (341)

And my favorite favorite of all: "I searched for feelings in my cheeks."
Give it a read, you won't regret it.